


In And Out Of Messes

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fights, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Molly tells Sherlock about an upcoming evaluation she has coming up with someone no one wants to be evaluated by, he tries to make things go smoothly, but it backfires and he nearly costs her her post. He vows to make sure she keeps it, though, and is rewarded suitably in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In And Out Of Messes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IdrisSmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrisSmith/gifts).



> So **IdrisSmith** was having a bad day and had Sherlolly on the mind and asked me to write a fic with the following prompt: _Molly was stressed out on the upcoming evaluation and Sherlock was trying to help her ease the tension, but, he's Sherlock and often time he would do the bit not good. Quite possibly convinced Mycroft to threaten her superior and she found out._ Hopefully this hits the spot for you, hun!

He watched Molly pick at her food. It wasn’t often she could talk him into going to a pub but he had a rather soft spot for The Book Club, he supposed, thanks to the lectures they hosted on science every once in a while. He had suggested an actual restaurant for their date but she’d said she was in the mood for a drink so this spot had won out. There wasn’t any events running tonight, and he’d already started to dig into the platter of Mexican fajitas they were going to share while she just drank her cocktail, a Mr. Mention, he believed it was called. She was drinking that more than she was picking at her food.

“You have something on your mind,” he said, arranging the ingredients for his next fajita on his tortilla before taking a bite.

She took a long sip of her drink and then looked at him. “I have my evaluation coming up, and Stamford isn’t doing it,” she said with a sigh. “The head of the pathology department says he’s too ‘lenient’ with me. Lets me get away with too much.”

“Which is their way of saying you let _me_ have too much run of the place,” he said, lowering his food.

She nodded. “I mean, what you do is important. You solve the really complicated cases for Scotland Yard, and for the government. You brought down James Moriarty twice, for Christ’s sake! But ever since our relationship became public now I’m under scrutiny, and…” She shook her head and had some more of her drink. “I don’t want to lose this post. I love my job, I love working with you and with Greg and Sally and everyone else. I love doing the autopsies and running the tests. I doubt there’s any place in the world that will let me run an entire department like I do here. I just don’t want to lose it. And they have The Battleaxe giving me my review.”

“The Battleaxe?” Sherlock asked, confused.

“Millicent Ackles. She’s the one they bring in when they need to make the tough decisions about a department.” Then she waved her hand. “We’re on a date. It’s supposed to be a _good_ evening, not a time where I moan about my post.” She picked up her fajita and took a bite. “After this, feel like seeing a film?”

“I don’t see why not,” he said, picking his own food up again. “If it’s what you want to do, I’m game.”

She nodded and then went about eating her food, changing the subject and engaging him in conversation. He pushed their conversation to the rear of his mind until they were curled up in bed together, her head on his chest and her arm around his waist. He had a name. A name he could give to his brother to see what, if anything, could be done to persuade The Battleaxe not to give Molly the chop. He’d do that in the morning, he decided before he joined Molly in her slumber.

\--

It had been a rather uneventful day for him until just before he was going to leave his lab. Molly banged the door open, glaring at him. “You,” she spat out. “You and your brother, throwing your weight around.”

He blinked. “Molly?” he asked.

“I have a week’s suspension and possible termination because _someone_ told _someone else_ who was doing my evaluation and that _someone else_ attempted to exert some pressure into getting them to not give me a bad evaluation.” She stalked up to Sherlock and as he was sitting on a stool they were eye to eye. “Sherlock, I didn’t tell you my problem so you could bully her or try and get her to lie. I told you so I could _vent_. You don’t have to fix everything. Sometimes I just want you to listen.” Tears were threatening to leak at the corners of her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling thoroughly rotten. He wanted to pull her close and hold her but she was so rigid and stiff right now. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No. And don’t bother trying. You’ll just make things worse,” she said. She dashed away the first tear as it fell.

“Molly…” he said, reaching for her, but she stepped back.

“Don’t. Just…don’t,” she said, turning and leaving his lab.

He watched her leave, and then after a moment he got his mobile and dialed his brother’s number. The minute he heard the answering click he spoke. “What did you do?” he growled.

“I merely applied some pressure to the person who would be conducting Molly’s evaluation,” Mycroft said smoothly. “Nothing that hasn’t been done before.”

“Yes, well, Molly’s been put on suspension and she could be sacked,” Sherlock said. “She just left the lab in tears.”

Mycroft was quiet for a moment. “I see,” he said, his voice tight. “Well, now. That does pose some complications.”

“I’m not about to let her lose her post,” Sherlock said, running his free hand over his face. “You have pull. Call a meeting for this evening with everyone on the hospital board. And I mean _everyone_. I don’t care what you have to do to convince them to be there. Just…make sure they’re there.”

“What do you have planned, brother mine?” Mycroft asked curiously.

Sherlock was quiet for a moment. “I’m going to beg,” he said.

“She is very important to you,” Mycroft said.

“You have no idea.”

“Up until this moment no, I didn’t think I did.” There was a pause. “Very well, Sherlock. You’ll get your meeting. And I’ll be there as well, with some…other guests.”

“Like who?” he asked.

“You’ll see.” Mycroft hung up the phone and Sherlock pulled it away, staring at it. He should be worried, he thought to himself, but if it allowed Molly to keep her post then it would be worth it.

\--

He had expected to come back to Baker Street and find the flat empty. He’d gone to Hyde Park to walk around after the impromptu meeting, a meeting filled with every Detective Inspector that Molly had helped solve a case for who could come in the four hours it had taken for Mycroft to arrange the meeting. They’d all been quite eager to lend their voices to the cause of helping Dr. Margaret Elizabeth Hooper keep her position as head of the forensic pathology department at St. Bart’s. But most had agreed it had been Sherlock who had been most passionate about Molly staying.

He let himself in and heard soft music coming from the direction of his bedroom. He recognized it as Violin Concerto No. 2 in C Major by Camille Saint-Saëns, one of his favorite pieces. He went there and opened the door, looking in on Molly lying on the bed in a rather stunning set of lacy red lingerie. She grinned at him as he came into his room. “I would say by all of this you’re no longer mad at me,” he remarked.

She nodded. “I got a phone call an hour ago, from the head of the hospital. He said they were quite sorry about the suspension. Dreadfully sorry, I think, was what he actually said, and that they would like for me to consider it a week of paid vacation for the hard work and dedication I have given to St. Bart’s in the seven years I’ve been there. He said that while I was on my vacation the list of improvements I’ve submitted each quarter would be implemented, as well as the refrigeration unit would be modernized and the path lab would have updated equipment. He also said the board decided it was time I received a raise for my dedication to the hospital.”

“And so you felt the need to celebrate,” he said.

“Well, I’ll admit I was shocked at the about face,” she said. "But then Sally called and said every horrible rotten thing she’d ever said about you was wrong, absolutely wrong, and so I asked her to explain, and she told me the whole story.” She got off the bed and moved closer to him, playing with the collar of his shirt. “Thank you, Sherlock. I know you made the mess in the first place, but you fixed it, and not only did you fix it, you had them go above and beyond to make things better.”

He settled his hands on her waist. “I wasn’t the only one.”

“I’ll think of a different way to thank your brother later,” she said, beginning to undo the buttons on his shirt. “But I have a week off of my post and I think I’d like to spend at least twenty-four hours of it with you in as little clothing as possible, preferably not leaving this bedroom.”

“I don’t see any problems with that,” he said with a grin, getting one in return before he leaned in and kissed her. It had worked out well, in the end, and he was thankful for that, so very thankful.


End file.
